What a long strange trip it's been.

Why do we do what we do (that voodoo)

Who knows how we get wrapped up in a project. I mean really. You do something, maybe you set a goal or you have a vision in your head, an idea. You really want to see if you can do it, or what it will look like.

It’s this simple: I did this because I wanted to see if I could.

To see if I could tell a short story without words. It turns your thinking around, makes you see things differently. I also wanted to see if I could draw that many pages consecutively–it was hard. A little harder than expected, especially the last five pages. Drawing like that means sitting still for chunks of time, not my strong suit, to be honest. But anyway, I like to see and feel what happens over time, especially doing a variation on one thing over time…even though it’s hard.

On April 1st, 2016, I was riding my bike around West Seattle, enjoying a surprisingly hot spring day. Admittedly, I didn’t feel great, but I was determined to enjoy the sun.

By 8 o’clock that night, after an MRI revealed a large mass in my cerebellum that had ruptured, I was admitted to Swedish Neuroscience Center for an emergency craniotomy. I survived handily and emerged 5 days later with a new titanium plate in my head and a huge bag of pills, feeling better than I had in a long time…and for that I was deeply grateful.

What I didn’t know yet was the enormous impact the ruptured tumor mass and craniotomy would have on my brain. On me. On my life. For nearly two years.

I am an artist and writer. Even as everything fell apart, I kept notes and made art. I’ve spent the last several months going back, piecing this whole thing together.